


Turn the knife

by Rottenfawn



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Developing Relationship, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Knifeplay, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rottenfawn/pseuds/Rottenfawn
Summary: Nobody but them knew about the procedure.It started with being carried out monthly but quickly turned into a grotesque weekly ritual for both of the men.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Kudos: 21





	Turn the knife

_I'm sinking deeper in the black of this hole,  
I can't remember if there once was my soul. _

It was one of those days.  
Angel noticed it as soon as he saw his partner's eyes.  
The charming hazel orbs didn't carry their usual smile, which confirmed that the smile on the pale face was merely a facade.  
Not many people, not even experienced doctors, could detect a difference, but the young man was skilled, studying the other's face like the bible, even if he hadn't been religious.  
He saw the tension hidden in the depths of his eyes, how he didn't carry himself with the normal elegance, despite the pain his chronic illness caused him on a daily basis.  
This wasn't Alastor; this was a desperate man, silently begging for feeling something, no matter what it is.  
It was more than wrong of people to assume that even monsters had no feelings.

_I wanna know if I'm still able to feel,  
and this why you got to give me the steel. _

Nobody but them knew about the procedure.  
It started with being carried out monthly but quickly turned into a grotesque weekly ritual for both of the men.  
The activity was beloved, especially by Angel, because he could finally share an intimacy with the brunette that he couldn't experience otherwise.  
It didn't bother him that they didn't engage in an active bedroom life. He was allowed to go out and search for men to satisfy his urges, no explanation needed. While he respected his partner's boundaries and limitations, he couldn't hide the excitement rushing through his body, better than any drug could ever be.  
He was a sinner like his partner, and it was comforting to know that Alastor understood his cravings.  
"Live yourself out, my dear." He always said, grinning widely, eyes burning with a fire of passion whenever he saw Angel going out.  
It was refreshing and beautiful.

_So wet the blade and get it under my skin,  
I hope you cut away the sore of my sin. _

Two bodies resting on the kingsized bed, one only partly clothed.  
Their silhouettes were caressed gently by the silk of the sheets and the dimmed lights.  
It would have almost been romantic, wouldn't it be for a purpose that only made reason in their minds.  
Some would argue that it was utterly insane to search for intimacy in the act of harming another, but it was the most delightful kind of insanity they gladly rested in.  
The steel Angel chose for this special occasion was new and beautiful.  
For each time they decided to bond through the knife, the young man brought a different one than before.  
They were all handmade and precious, only the best for the love of his life.  
In his gentle hands, it wasn't a weapon but an instrument to express his feelings with.  
For once, he was grateful to have grown up as the son of a powerful mafioso.  
It had allowed him to learn how to kill in many different forms.

_I can't believe I want you holding me tight,  
now that the steel is coming one with my side. _

The silence was comfortable.  
Neither the younger man nor Alastor said a word, as the steel was connected with the skin's fragile surface.  
It broke in quickly, penetrating the flesh mercilessly. The former radio host relaxed noticeably.  
While it seemed for bystanders as if Alastor was a naturally relaxed man, his partner knew it was actually different.  
Letting down his guard, even in his own four walls, was not normal for him.  
That was the reason why Angel prided himself in being the one providing safety and guidance for the other.  
He got drunk on another kind of power than the ones he possessed as a mafioso's son.  
The strong arm wrapped around him and the warmth of the body of his lover calmed his rapid heartbeat.  
It was morbid that he found comfort in the same action he took his victims' life with.  
The act itself could be barely described as violent, though.  
Way too skilled and careful was the hand that was leading the weapon over his skin, leaving calculated marks and coloring the white to a deep red.  
The older man's hands held onto the arm holding him, shaking a little as the steel soothed the sinner's soul.  
It was pure ecstasy.

_I always wanted to believe in your love,  
sometimes I thought you were sent from above. _

Love had always been a foreign concept to him, but the way his whole being felt drawn to Angel told a different story.  
Who could have known that someone like him was a slave to their emotions?  
"You're doing good, Al." The voice was calm and caring, filled with appreciation, and it was so genuine that it almost brought tears to his eyes.  
The brunette reached up, caressing the cheek of his love with his cold hands, earning a satisfied purr, as he was watched through half-lidded eyes.  
Oh, how he knew that only he had the honor to see the genuine boy hidden underneath the make-up and vulgar attire.  
Angel stayed true to the name he had chosen for himself.  
He was the only pure and holy thing in Alastors life, no matter how much he thought that he was rotten on the inside.

_And now I know you've got the power to heal,  
and this is why you got to give me the steel. _

It didn't take long until Alastors body was tired of the procedure.  
Not only did it take an unholy amount of trust, but his body was also incapable of taking much harm, even when this situation was always providing a satisfying and secure outcome.  
It didn't change the fact that the red knife killer of New Orleans was a fragile human being, like everyone else. He didn't turn this way from stealing souls and eating the warm flesh, and Angel was more than aware of it.  
It was true that Alastor was cold and calculated, finding enjoyment in the misery and pain of others, but he was also a normal man like everyone else.  
He possessed the ability to love, and he showed it to Angel on a daily basis.  
He watched the other silently, admiring how not only blood filled the older man's veins but also the most poisonous cocktail known to humankind.  
He reached out and painted his fingers red, bringing his hand to his lips to let his tongue slide over it.  
A soft moan escaped him.  
Angel always had a taste for destruction.


End file.
